He looks puzzled. “Then why are you crying?”
“I don’t even know. My hormones are having a rave, I think.”
“Right…” he says with a half-smile. “Do you need anything? I’ve cleared the next four weeks to spend with you. No press. No travel. Just you and me. Maybe we could even start planning the wedding?” His smile is so bright, so genuine, and my heart swells—and sinks.
I want that too.
But the guilt creeps in again.
“That sounds amazing,” I say softly. “But maybe you could do a couple of interviews? To keep the fans happy?”
His smile falters, and he shakes his head. “No. I want to be here… with you. I nearly lost you, Dee…” His voice breaks, and he inhales sharply.
I reach for him, fingers brushing his forearm, trying to anchor him. Colt exhales, resting his hand over mine and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.
“Okay,” I whisper. “But if you change your mind, if you need space, I’ll understand.”
“No, Dee. I’m not leaving your side. End of discussion.” He stands abruptly and walks into the ensuite. I blink at the sudden shift. A few seconds later, he returns with a glass of water and places it on my nightstand. “Here,” he says. “Drink this, and I’ll get you some painkillers. You’re burning up. I knew that damn fan would make you sick.” He half-smiles like he’s made a joke, but it doesn’t land.
I lay here stunned, unsure what just happened.
Maybe he’s struggling too.
Maybe all of this is getting to both of us in different ways.
The second he’s out of the room, I throw off the covers and start frantically fanning myself. Sweet relief rushes over my skin, but it’s fleeting.What I really need is an ice bath or a cold shower.
Footsteps on the stairs snap me out of my moment. I pull the covers back over me just as Colt walks in, holding a mug and a few pills.
“Here you go, baby. Take these, and I made you a hot cup of tea. That should help with the fever.”
A hot drink?
I want to cry.
Or laugh.
Or both.
Still, I sit up and take the tablets with the water, doing my best to hide my grimace at the sight of the tea.
Colt rubs my thigh, gentle, comforting. “I’m sorry if I snapped earlier. I want to protect you. Keep you safe. And I’ve already screwed that up more than once. I’m just trying to get it right this time.”
He means the breakup. The accident. All of it.
“I know, babe,” I say, placing a hand over his. “And you are getting it right. I promise.”
He smiles until his eyes narrow again. “Geez, Dee, you’re really sweating. You must be getting sick. I’ll go turn on the heating.”
“No, Colt,” I panic. “That’s not—”
He’s already on his damn feet. “I told you, I’m looking after you. If you’re coming down with something, you need to stay warm.”
“Colt, seriously, I’m fi—”
“No arguments, Dee.”
And just like that, he’s gone again.
